


Healing

by TillysTealeaves



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Deserves to be Happy, Dean Winchester Keeps Miracle the Dog, Destiel is canon, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Episode: s15e20 Carry On - Barn Scene, M/M, Post-Finale, Something to Say, happy birthday dean, season 15 fix it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28968876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TillysTealeaves/pseuds/TillysTealeaves
Summary: A rewrite of Season 15, Episode 20. Characters are more in character. Dean has something to say and he gets to say it. Happy endings all around. Posted on Dean's birthday because this is what he deserves.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 72





	Healing

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time, I wrote this really sad thing for Dean Winchester’s birthday. Then [ this guy ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitywritten/pseuds/infinitywritten) made me make it happy, then it turned into a whole Thing, and now that three part story is over but apparently I write stories for Dean Winchester on his birthday now. Enjoy. Hope y’all are having some pie tonight.

Castiel was repairing yet another section of Heaven when he felt it. Pain. Pain blossoming in his back and spreading through his body. But not his body. He was removed from the pain, witnessing it as an outsider. 

It had long been known amongst Angels that when one of their number had been tasked with protecting a specific human, they sometimes developed intuition that alerted them to their charge being in danger. No one was surprised that Castiel, the angel who loved humanity just a little too much, had the ability to sense when Dean Winchester was in danger.

Just a few weeks after Castiel pulled the Righteous Man from Hell, the other Angels were very much surprised (and annoyed, and concerned) when they realized how sensitive the connection was. Castiel had been listening to one of his superiors talk about the plan for the coming war when he interrupted with a worried, “Dean is injured.” He then paused, allowed himself to connect to the feeling, and clarified, “no it’s just a simple flesh wound. He is in no danger.” He missed the worried looks the other Angels shot each other and he assumed that was simply a normal thing that Angels could do with humans with whom they had a more profound bond.

In retrospect, Castiel should have known he was lost even then. 

Now, as Castiel felt pain rip through his body, he knew that Dean was in serious trouble. In an instant, he flew from the orchard he was regrowing and appeared before Jack. Before God. 

“Dean is in trouble,” he stated without preamble. 

“Yes,” Jack answered, smiling sadly at Castiel. “I can feel it.”

Castiel waited a long moment before realizing that Jack had nothing else to add to his statement. “What’s wrong? I feel the pain, but you can see them. Jack, what happened?”

“He’s on a hunt. Vampires. He’s been stabbed- impaled, actually.”

Castiel tried not to show his panic, but he was sure Jack could feel it. Jack could feel everything. “You have to help him.”

Jack looked at Castiel blankly. For a moment, Castiel thought back to the time when Jack was soulless, and he shuddered. “I won’t. I told Sam and Dean, I’m not that kind of God. Hands off, not playing with lives like Chuck.”

“But it’s Dean!” Castiel tried to keep his voice level, but he could feel that he was close to shouting. He loved being in Heaven- loved being given the opportunity to help make Heaven what it always should have been. But Jack had been his son, and now he was somehow his... Father? Everyone’s Father? His superior, at least. It was hard to wrap his mind around that sometimes. What right did an Angel have to challenge the will of the Lord?

Castiel and Dean and Sam had raised this powerful being in love, had taught him how to be better than what he was fated to be, had cared for him. And now, that boy was a creature of infinite power and grace, and he was calling the shots. He wanted to be nothing like Chuck, Castiel understood that. But was he really going to hold his Hands Off policy in higher regard than the safety of his loved ones? Would he allow Dean to-

His thoughts were cut off as another jolt of pain shot through him. After, he felt weak and vaguely sick. Fading. Dean was fading. “Jack, please, I know you don’t want to interfere. But he’s dying. Please, Jack, he finally has a chance to live.”

"Castiel, I will not interfere.” Jack answered calmly. “However, as much as I am... God... now, I cannot control the actions of the Angels who work alongside me.”

Castiel often felt that Dean was selling Jack extremely short when he called the nephilim a “juiced up toddler” and “even more clueless than you used to be, Cas”. He believed that Jack had an astounding degree of emotional intelligence, but sometimes lacked the words to describe what he felt or observed. Now, here was the proof. 

Jack stared placidly at Castiel as they both felt Dean Winchester’s strength ebbing away. If he was to be saved, divine intervention would have to come quickly. 

Of course, this wasn’t the first time that Jack and Castiel had discussed Dean. When Jack had pulled Castiel from the Empty, he had immediately brought his surrogate father to the empty field outside of the Bunker. Castiel had asked- had begged, really- to be taken anywhere else, so Jack had brought them to Heaven. It had been many days before Castiel told Jack the whole story. When he had, Jack encouraged him to go back to the brothers, to tell them that he was safe. Castiel refused. If Dean had any desire to talk to him after Castiel’s confession, he would have prayed. He had not. Jack insisted that Dean might not have prayed because he didn’t think Castiel could hear him. Or he might not have prayed simply because he was Dean. Castiel smiled weakly at that, because it certainly was a valid consideration.

But no. What Castiel had done was surely unforgivable in Dean’s eyes. He had broken their unspoken rule and addressed whatever it was that had always hung between them. He had embarrassed Dean. Shocked him. Castiel saw it in Dean’s eyes before the Empty dragged him away. Dean was appalled. One day, when Dean had lived out his human life, they would perhaps meet again in Heaven and they could be cordial without ever bringing up what Castiel had said. But it was too soon now. Too fresh. Castiel was still too raw.

Jack hadn’t ordered him to go back to Earth. Not that Jack would ever order him to do anything. He had allowed Castiel to remain in Heaven, asking Castiel what parts of it used to be good, working with him on developing strategies to rebuild it better. He still mentioned the Winchesters occasionally, suggesting that perhaps they should stop in some time. “Having a burger certainly shouldn’t count as divine interference,” he’d argued. Castiel had simply ignored him and continued rebuilding the Roadhouse just as Ellen and Jo had remembered it.

Now, Jack had leverage and he was apparently prepared to use it. Dean was in trouble. Dean was dying. And according to God himself, the only way to save him was for Castiel to face him. He wondered briefly if Jack would actually let Dean die. If he just stood here and refused to move, would Jack go down and heal Dean himself? It was that incredibly petty thought that shocked Castiel into action. It didn’t matter that God was Jack, the kindest heart Castiel had ever met, and his foster son.

Castiel was playing chicken with God over Dean Winchester’s life.

With a brief nod and a flap of wings, he was gone.

*********************************************************************

The scene in the barn was something out of Castiel’s worst nightmares, when he was human and actually had nightmares. Dean was pinned up against a post, a piece of rebar shoved through his back. Sam was standing before him, holding him up, trying to keep the pressure off the metal tearing through his big brother’s chest as Dean’s legs grew weak. They were saying goodbye.

Wordlessly, Castiel rushed towards them. Dean’s eyes locked onto his, that perfect shade of green swirling with shock and apprehension. Was Dean afraid of him? Afraid of what he was about to say? Castiel didn’t have time to feel guilty about that right now, but he knew he would later. Sam was talking to him, asking “How are you back? Can you help him? Cas, can you heal him? Is Jack alright?”, but he backed away as he spoke, giving Castiel room to stand before Dean.

The Angel pulled Dean off the metal and eased him to the ground, praying that Dean couldn’t feel how his hands were shaking and reciting Enochian verse in his head to try to block out the soft whimpers of pain Dean couldn’t manage to suppress. He let his grace flow through the man, healing him. He healed the gaping wound in his back, the damage to his spine and organs. Then he kept healing. Healing the arthritis in Dean’s right hand. Healing that spot in his left ankle that ached sometimes. Healing his liver from far too much whiskey. He’d done this before, with casual touches that Dean had never noticed. He was sure Dean would be angry if he’d known. But now he had to make sure he got everything, because this would be the last time that he did it. The last time that he saw Dean Winchester. He told himself he wasn’t allowed to be sad at that, because it was still one more time than he thought he had.

When Dean was healed, Castiel helped him sit up and then stepped away. Sam, who had finally stopped asking questions, rushed to his brother’s side. Dean looked up at the Angel standing before him, an inscrutable expression on his face. Or maybe Castiel was simply too afraid to try to interpret it. “Cas?” His tone was wary and unsure. What was the next part of his question? Castiel decided he didn’t want to find out. He had said all he needed to say to this brave, loving, beautiful person in front of him. And he had had a chance to save him yet again. That was how he wanted this to end, not with Dean asking him questions about why he’d said it- or scolding him for it.

“You’re healed now, Dean. Please do try not to get yourself killed again for at least a few years.”

He flew away from the barn, from Dean, and returned to Heaven.

***********************************************

The drive back to the bunker was silent. Sam drove, insisting that nearly dying was reason enough for Dean not to immediately get behind a wheel. Dean tried to argue that he was fully healed, but the words got stuck in his throat. Cas had healed him. Castiel. Who was alive, apparently. Who was fine. Who had come to his rescue yet again, even though the last time they had seen each other, Castiel had said… all that he said. And Dean had said-

Nothing.

Dean had said nothing.

The entire drive home, Dean heard his own silence echoing in his ears. The seconds that had dragged on as Castiel was pulled away. It wasn’t that he didn’t have time to say anything. He’d had time. That was a lie he’d told himself the first week to try to hate himself just a little bit less. But he could have said something. Hell, he could have thrown himself on Cas and not let go. He’d just stood there staring, then lay on the floor after Cas pushed him away, still silent, watching his best friend, his- watching Castiel get dragged into the Empty.

They were five minutes from home when Sam finally spoke. “What the hell happened with Billie, Dean?”

“What do you mean?” Not that Dean thought playing dumb was going to deter Sam. But gods, he did not want to talk about this. He didn’t even know how to talk about this.

“Look, I’m assuming that you didn’t know Cas was back, Dean. You would have told me.”

“Of course I would have told you! Dammit, Sammy, if I had known that Cas wasn’t stuck in some cosmic timeout, of course I would have-”

“I know, Dean, I know,” Sam interrupted. “That’s exactly my point. If he didn’t tell you of all people that he was back, then something really bad must have happened. What?”

“I screwed up,” Dean answered honestly. But after that, he lapsed back into silence. He couldn’t tell Sam about that day, couldn’t bear to say any of it aloud.

They were home. In one piece. For the first time, it occurred to Dean that he really hadn’t made it back this time. Sam parked the car but made no move to get out. “You don’t have to tell me. I wish you would but you don’t have to. But you should talk to him.”

“How? In case you didn’t notice, he flew away as soon as I wasn’t bleeding out.”

Sam sighed. “Maybe because he assumes that whatever it is, you don’t want to talk about it. Come on, Dean, you know how to get in touch with him if you want.” He sighed again and looked down at his lap, fiddling with the car keys. “You almost died today, Dean. For real. On a pretty basic hunt. In our lives, it’s really stupid to leave things unsaid. Because something could happen to us at any time. Look, I’m not going to try to put words to whatever it is you guys have between you. But it’s important. It’s something that matters so much to the both of you. We’re free now, Dean. Free to live whatever lives we want. We have a place we call home and we know where all our friends are. We call them sometimes just to say hi. You have a dog. This is all so great. And you’re miserable.” Dean didn’t even try to argue. “You’re always sad when he’s not here, and thinking that he’s been trapped in the Empty all this time has been eating you up. He’s back. He’s safe. And clearly still watching out for us. Just talk to him.” He got out of the car without bothering to wait for a reply he knew he wouldn’t get.

Dean sighed and followed. He changed out of his blood soaked clothes. He took Miracle for a short walk. He made them both a snack when they got back from it. (Yes, Sam, he’s eating off the plate. All the road stops and sketchy diners they’d eaten in their whole lives and they were fine. They could handle a dog licking a plate that was going to go through a dishwasher anyway.) Desperate for something to keep him occupied, he went out to the garage and popped Baby’s trunk. He cleaned every weapon they’d used that day. Then all the others. Then checked on the stock level of all the supplies. Finally, he retreated to his room, admitting that he’d run out of ways to avoid sitting in silence with his own mind.

He closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed. Miracle sat next to him and pressed his fluffy head against Dean’s leg. Dean sighed and scratched the dog behind his ears. “Yeah, buddy, I’m okay. I gotta just do it, I guess. Been trying so damn hard not to pray all these weeks because not getting an answer would just make it all so much worse. And what do I even say?” He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “Okay, here goes nothing.”

“Cas, can you hear me? You gotta stop doing that, man. Disappearing before you give me a chance to speak. I didn’t even thank you today for saving my life. Again. So, thank you. I almost died, Cas- just a few weeks after you sacrificed everything to protect me, and I almost died with a piece of rebar shoved through my back. It would have been okay if I had, though. It’s a good death. Honorable. Go out fighting. And we saved those kids, and that’s what really matters.

“But honestly? I don’t want to go. And that’s the first time in a long time I can say that. It’s been good here. Just normal hunts, vamps and ghosts and crap, the way it used to be. No God, no great evil pulling the strings. Just me and Sammy, hunting monsters. And we’ve got a real home here in the bunker, so it ain’t like before, being on the road all the time. And Sam’s seeing Eileen and they’re really happy. I got a dog. His name is Miracle. You’d really like him, Cas. 

“And that’s the problem. That’s what I keep coming back to. ‘Cas would really like him’ or ‘Cas would love this movie’ or ‘Cas wouldn’t get this reference but he’d smile anyway.’ I’ve got this great life now, Cas, and I want to live it. But you’re not here. 

“I’ve been researching. Trying to find out everything I can about the Empty. Coming up with nothing again and again and... and I guess you didn’t even need it. You were already safe in Heaven with Jack. I wish you’d told me. But hey, I get it, you’re an Angel of the Lord. And I’m just one guy. But Cas, if you’ve ever got a few minutes-”

This was stupid. Dean felt so stupid. His throat was burning and he was sure there were a few tears he hadn’t managed to blink back. He was so pathetic, asking an Angel for scraps of attention. An Angel who had saved his life just a few hours ago. How dare he ask him for anything else? 

But Cas loved him, didn’t he? Or, had loved him a few weeks ago, before Dean had completely blown his shot at the one chick flick moment he always wished he could have. Maybe Cas still had enough fondness for him to allow him this?

“You know, if you’re ever not too busy with Heaven stuff, I’d really like to just be able to thank you in person. And see that you’re okay. Then I’ll leave you alone, I swear and-”

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean’s head snapped up. Castiel stood by the closed door, as far from Dean as he could be in the small bedroom, but still so close. Seconds away. Not in a different dimension. Not trapped away in Angel Death. Not sacrificing himself. Not crying. 

No, that was Dean who was crying, and he hated himself that he couldn’t even bring himself to try to stop. He just sat there on the edge of his bed, mouth open, tears flowing down his face, and staring at the celestial being that had once again come to his rescue, even after he’d proved Castiel wrong yet again.

 _You deserve to be saved._ It was one of the first things that Castiel had ever told him, but it was wrong. Dean didn’t deserve to be saved, not when so many other people hadn’t gotten that chance. He didn’t deserve to be saved yet again when so many good people had died. And he absolutely did not deserve to be saved by Castiel, by this beacon of celestial energy whose life he had ruined and who he had let down so many times, and whose heart he thinks he may have broken in Castiel’s final moments alive.

Except they weren’t his final moments. Because he was here. In the end, it was that that finally managed to take first place in the millions of things Dean wanted to say. “You’re back. How? Cas, I swear I looked, but I couldn’t find any way to break into the Empty.”

“It was Jack. He’s more than just Chuck’s powers. He’s Amara’s too. And also his own. He… convinced it, somehow. I think he threatened to just never let it sleep again, actually.”

Dean smiled weakly. “Good for him. And… and he’s okay?”

“He’s fine, Dean.” Castiel didn’t seem angry. That was a start, Dean supposed. But he looked sad and uncomfortable, like he might fly off again at any moment. And Dean knew that he’d never have the courage to pray him back a second time.

“Were you ever gonna tell me, or just let me keep looking forever?” he snapped. Not what he should have done. Not how to keep him from leaving. Damn, when was he going to stop screwing this up?

“I didn’t know you were looking.”

“How could you think that?” Dean whispered. But he knew exactly how. In that moment, he remembered every moment he had failed Cas, pushed him away, made him feel unloved. “Castiel, you are family and we will always want you here. I will always look for a way to bring you back.”

“I thought… after what I said-”

“I love you.”

They both stared at each other, frozen. Dean was as surprised as Cas at the words he’d just said. But they were true, of course they were true, and something inside of him felt suddenly better after saying it aloud. _Happiness… is in just saying it._ Now, though, he had to make sure Castiel knew he meant it. “I love you, Cas. I always have.”

Castiel smiled, but it was small. Not like that oh-so-warm smile he’d given Dean before he was taken. “I have always known your feelings for me are very deep, Dean. I don’t look inside your mind, I know you don’t want me to do that, but I can still feel the energy from your soul. However, I have also always respected your desire not to let anything come of those feelings. I know there are many reasons for that. I know we both have our jobs to perform, and something always seems to be setting us on different paths. I know that while your feelings are very strong, I am not a human and you could never want from me what I-” He cut himself off, looking down at the floor. “And I know that this vessel that has become as natural to me as my true form is male, and that that is not your preference.”

For a brief moment, Dean got lost in a twenty five year old memory of his father moving them to a new town because he “didn’t like the look” of Dean’s new friend. A twenty three year old memory of John angrily explaining to Dean that he shouldn’t be so physically affectionate with his male friends. A twenty year old memory of John appearing out of nowhere and beating the hell out of some guy in a bar for buying Dean a drink. Dean hadn’t known his father was watching and had been flattered and excited just minutes before.

But of all the things that Castiel had said, that wasn’t the one that worried him the most. Those memories had healed over- ugly and scarred, but they’d healed. No, Dean was much more concerned about the remark that Castiel had made before that.

“Did you ever think,” he began, hating the fear audible in his voice, “that you’re not a human, so I didn’t think you wanted stuff like that. Didn’t think you felt stuff like that. Aren’t Angels not supposed to…” he trailed off, unsure how to put it into words.

“No, Dean, Angels are not supposed to. But I told you. You changed me. And besides, I’ve never been very good at the whole ‘supposed to’ thing.”

He used the air quotes. With his fingers. Because of course he did and he was right here, not gone, and Dean loved him so much. And he was crying again, ugly sobs that felt like relief this time instead of hopelessness, and somehow, he wasn’t even ashamed. Castiel sat down beside Dean and wrapped his arm around him, his hand coming to rest on Dean’s left shoulder, which somehow made Dean cry even harder.

Dean wasn’t sure how he’d ever manage to pull himself together again, but suddenly there was a pressure in his lap and something wet on his face. Miracle, who had stayed motionless at Dean’s side through all of this, had apparently taken Castiel’s move from doorway to bed as a cue that he could move too. He was standing between them, on them, and licking Dean’s face. Dean laughed, trying to push the dog away, but Castiel stopped him.

“He’s worried about you. He wants to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine buddy, I promise. Oh, hey, this is Cas. Cas, this is Miracle.”

“Hello, Miracle,” Castiel greeted with complete sincerity. “Thank you for taking care of Dean.” Miracle turned to lick Castiel’s face as well.

Eventually, Miracle quieted down. Dean was no longer crying and the stranger who smelled vaguely of ozone and rain had been sufficiently greeted. He hopped off the bed and curled up at their feet, leaving the pair sitting beside each other, knees touching and eyes locked.

“So what happens now?” Dean asked. “What have you and Jack been up to?”

“We’re fixing Heaven. Making it the way it should always have been. Jack’s doing a really wonderful job.”

“I bet he is. You were right about him.” Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. “So I guess you’ve gotta get back there soon to help?”

Castiel tilted his head in that way that was so sweet and utterly breathtaking. He sighed. “Dean, I think we need to start being more direct, even if no one is dying. Do you want me to leave?”

“Never.” And god, how selfish did he have to be? Asking an Angel of the Lord to stay forever? Cas just said he was busy in Heaven.

“It isn’t selfish,” Castiel assured him. “And I wish you would think of yourself first more often.”

“Thought you just said you don’t read my mind,” Dean mumbled.

“I do if it’s a prayer. That was directed at me rather forcefully. Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry. He looked happy and maybe a little smug. “Forever?”

“I mean, not all the time. You should still go to Heaven, help Jack fix it up. Maybe convince him to come visit?”

“He’s suggested it a few times,” Castiel admitted. “But he wouldn’t go without me and I… I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.”

“You’re always welcome.” He’d hurt Castiel so much. He didn’t deserve him.

Castiel looked at him sadly. “I heard that too. You do, Dean. Don’t you remember anything I say to you? You deserve to be saved. From Hell. From Billie.”

“From rebar,” Dean interrupted, still feeling annoyed that he’d almost been taken out on such a dumb run-of-the-mill hunt after surviving God less than two months before.

“From rebar,” agreed Castiel. “From your negative opinions of yourself. You deserve to be saved and you deserve to be loved.”

“I hurt you.”

“You could make it up to me?” Castiel suggested. He was smart, Dean conceded, and he knew Dean well. He could never convince Dean that all his past mistakes could be simply forgiven through the power of love. But give Dean a chance to make it right? To show his love through action? Dean would make sure that Castiel felt as loved as possible, and in the process would allow himself to be loved in return.

“Yeah, I could do that,” he agreed. “I love you, Cas.” Then, _finally_ , he leaned in for a kiss. It was short and soft and somehow the greatest kiss of Dean’s life. This was perfect. This was home. This was finally getting to live.

Castiel’s smile grew, wide and gummy but with no tears this time, and no impending doom. “I heard that too. And I agree.” He leaned in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> OOF. That… got away from me. But there you have it, friends. Because Dean Winchester deserves a lot on his birthday, but most of all, he deserves a chance to actually live his life. And he deserves a chance to speak. Dean has something to say, and for his birthday, I gave him a platform to say it.


End file.
